


Ride of the Valkyries

by edenforest



Series: I feel you in my dreams [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, gallya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenforest/pseuds/edenforest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She sat on the edge of the chair stiffly and anxious. She rubbed her hands together and noticed the reddish brown stains on the sides of her palms. She still had his blood on her hands. But she couldn’t wash it off. She only looked at the stains and swallowed. If he died, it would be all she had left from him, the blood stains on the sides of her hands. She wouldn’t be able to wash her hands ever again. Otherwise he would just disappear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride of the Valkyries

”Everything is alright,” Gaby assured hastily. She took her jacket and cardigan off. She tried not to think about all the blood bleeding out of Napoleon. If she didn’t think about that, it was easier to believe that everything would end up fine. She pressed the cardigan against the bullet wound right under Napoleon’s collarbone and pressed.

“Oh, you quack,” Napoleon grunted between his teeth. He closed his eyes against the worst of the pain.

“Illya is going to be here soon,” Gaby told him and there was a gentle and reassuring smile on her lips. She didn’t know how she had the strength to make that smile happen, but she did. “And then we are going to get you to a hospital. They will stitch you up, pump you full of new blood, and you can flirt with all the nurses. You don’t want to miss that,” she reminded. “So don’t go anywhere. Just stay here with me.”

”I can’t believe I’m going to die in the woods,” Napoleon muttered.

“You are not dying,” Gaby told him firmly.

“I hate the woods,” Napoleon sighed. ”All the places in the world I could die, it had to be the woods.”

“No. You are going to be fine. And then later you can die the way you were intending: in a city, murdered by an angry father, brother or husband,” she said.

Napoleon managed to get low chuckle out which made him close his eyes when the movement made the pain worse. He took few shallow breaths. “You don’t have to try. I know how much blood I have lost,” he said quietly.

Gaby shook her head. “Not that much,” she claimed and knew it was a lie. ”We are going to get out of here in any minute now. Everything is going to be fine.” She wasn’t sure was she saying that to Napoleon or to herself. At that point it really didn’t matter.

“You don’t know that,” Napoleon pointed out wearily and looked at Gaby, who underneath her light fake smile was terrified. His breathing was labored.

“Yes, I do,” Gaby nodded. “Besides, you wouldn’t leave me alone with Illya.”

“You two have been weird lately,” Napoleon muttered. “I will give you that. You just have to cope without me.”

“We can’t be left alone,” Gaby said, frowning. “That would be a disaster. We need you to balance us. We need all three. So you have no permission to die,” Gaby informed him and lifted her head when she heard the engine noises. “Can you hear that? It’s Illya. We have a car and we are going to get out of here.” She squeezed Napoleon’s hand and hoped that he wouldn’t notice how much her hands were trembling. She held back her tears until Illya stepped out and came to help Napoleon into the car. She let one plump tear run down her cheek. Gaby pulled her jacket back on, swiped the tear on her sleeve and sat behind the steering wheel. In the light of the car she could see all the blood on her hands.

 

***

 

Illya set his hand on Gaby’s shoulder so she would let already unconscious Napoleon go. She fallowed Illya to the hospital waiting room and sat down because he bumped her gently down to a chair.

“Do you need something?” Illya asked.

Gaby shook her head.

“Water or tea or coffee?” Illya still asked.

“Coffee,” Gaby sighed even though she wasn’t sure if she really wanted that. Maybe she did. It really didn’t matter. But Illya seemed like he needed to do something so she gave him something to do. He nodded and left Gaby to sit alone. She sat on the edge of the chair stiffly and anxious. She rubbed her hands together and noticed the reddish brown stains on the sides of her palms. She still had Napoleon’s blood on her hands. But she couldn’t wash it off. She only looked at the stains and swallowed. If Napoleon died, it would be all she had left from him, the blood stains on the sides of her hands. She wouldn’t be able to wash her hands ever again. Otherwise he would just disappear. Gaby wondered what the inside of the car would look in daylight. There had been so much blood.

Illya returned and handed a coffee cup to Gaby. She didn’t feel like drinking the coffee anymore, not that she wanted to do that even earlier. But she warmed her hands around the cup. She only sat stiffly on the edge of her chair and stared somewhere through the floor, her body motionless. She didn’t want to think about what the doctors were doing to Napoleon, but it was still in her mind.

Illya leaned on his chair and watch Gaby. She looked like a statue, like she sometimes did. Sometimes she just froze still and that gave him a chance to watch her. But now her stillness was sad. He set his hand on Gaby’s thigh, but she didn’t react in any way. She only continued staring through the floor. “Gaby,” Illya called her carefully. “Gaby.”

Gaby woke from her stare only after the second time Illya called her. She blinked her eyes few times like she was making them work again. She turned her face towards Illya.

“He is going to be okay,” Illya said.

“You don’t know that,” Gaby sighed. “You said that for the same reason I said it to Napoleon: so I wouldn’t worry.”

“Then what do you want to hear?” Illya asked.

“Truth,” Gaby said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Illya took a deep breath. “He may not make it. He lost a lot of blood. You should brace yourself. He may die.”

“I don’t want that,” Gaby whispered sadly and felt a lump in her throat.

“I know,” Illya sighed. “Me neither.”

Gaby swallowed and turned her head away. She had wanted the truth even if she really didn’t want to hear it. She closed her eyes and the tears ran down her cheeks. She didn’t want to be the one crying in a hospital, not when they were all still alive. And she didn’t want Illya to see her tears.

Illya took the coffee cup from Gaby’s hand. It was so easy that he wasn’t sure was she actually even holding it. It was miracle that the coffee hadn’t spilled across the floor already. He set the cup on the table in front of them. Illya tucked his hand under Gaby’s thigh and took a hold on her arm. He pulled her closer. Gaby didn’t fight back and it was easy to pull her to sit on his lap. Illya wrapped his arm around her back.

Gaby couldn’t hold her tears anymore. She leaned her side on Illya’s chest, buried her face on his neck and let the tears run from her eyes. Illya didn’t do anything or say anything. He didn’t try to shush her or comfort her by any other means than just being there. He wrapped his other hand around Gaby too and let her cry against him. He held her in place even though Gaby wasn’t going anywhere. But his hands were still comforting. Gaby leaned on him and was openly pitiful and didn’t care anymore how stupid she might seem.

When she got her tears all out, she hunched and picked her nails, and stayed put. Illya rested his chin on her shoulder and let her slouch on his lap. Gaby sniffed from time to time. Illya checked his pocket and found a tissue for her. Gaby blew her nose and sighed deeply.

“Do you feel better?” Illya asked quietly.

Gaby nodded.

Illya thought that she looked more relaxed. Apparently a good cry pushed the biggest anxiety out of her. Her eyes and nose were redder and she looked worried, but not anymore so stiff and lifeless.

Gaby reached for her coffee cup from the table and made no effort to get up from Illya’s lap. And Illya preferred that. Gaby’s warm weight on him felt good. And it was nice to lean his chin on her shoulder. Usually touching Gaby made his brain and body go overdrive. It filled his mind thoughts of her bare skin, touching it and all the sounds she would make when he would touch. She was all over his brains; opening his shirt buttons, lying on his bed, wrapping her legs around his waist, whispering his name. But now his head was only in the waiting room. It was here, in the reality. Gaby was sitting on his lap and still he was relaxed. Both of them wanted only comfort, nothing more. There was no tension, no innuendos, not that intense stare that was there nowadays so often between them. Now there was only Gaby and Illya. Gaby, who carefully sipped her coffee and rested her side on his chest, and Illya who held his arms around her and leaned his chin on her shoulder. Gaby and Illya who waited.

”I don’t know will he die,” Illya muttered his chin against Gaby. “But I think he will live. Dying would be too easy. He will survive only to annoy me,” he suspected.

Gaby glanced at him quickly.

“And if he should die, that is not the worst part. The funeral is going to be. It is going to be ridiculous,” Illya sighed. “They will probably play ‘Amazing Grace.’ And the place will be full of crying women. Black veils on everybody’s faces.”

Gaby’s lips twitched a little. “Stop,” she said.

“Everybody will be sniveling on their handkerchiefs,” Illya muttered and looked slightly nauseous. “I am sure somebody is going to be crushed enough to throw herself on top of the coffin.”

Gaby snorted quietly when she couldn’t suffocate it. She quickly pulled her mouth into a tight line and punched Illya with her shoulder. “Stop it. Don’t make me laugh. This is serious.”

”Yes it is,” Illya nodded, his chin still on Gaby shoulder. “Do you know how much profit all the stores are going to make by selling black dresses for all of those women? It is going to be horrible. I don’t think that I will attend.”

Gaby laughed quietly. “You are horrible,” she accused and tried to wipe her smile away. “If he now dies I’m going to be forever mad at you for making me laugh at the hospital.”

“I will take that risk,” Illya accepted.

Gaby looked at him. He had a soft expression on his face, but underneath he looked worried and tired like she did. “Do you think he would like ‘Amazing Grace’?” Gaby asked.

”I am sure,” Illya huffed and rolled his eyes. ”He is like that.”

“And you?” Gaby asked. ”What would you prefer? Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff?”

Illya shrugged his shoulders.

”I don’t know either,” Gaby muttered.

“You are easy,” Illya claimed. “Wagner. Ride of the Valkyries.”

Gaby turned her head to Illya. “Have you thought about this?” she wondered. “That came out very sure.”

“No,” Illya replied. ”It is just very obvious. And if the Valkyries ever would take somebody with them, I am sure you are on the top of their list.”

Gaby hummed. She had to lower her eyes. If she looked at Illya any longer, she might blush. “I think that is nicest weird thing anybody has ever said to me,” she muttered. “Maybe the nicest thing in general.” She kept picking her nails.

Illya set his hands better around her.

“Am I heavy here?” Gaby asked and straightened herself.

“No. You are light. And warm,” Illya said and Gaby leaned back against him.

She smiled softy to herself. “I think you are on their list too,” she suspected and looked Illya. “I think we all are.”

“Let’s hope that Cowboy will save us seats,” Illya muttered.

Gaby pushed him with her shoulder again, even if the things he had been saying were the only reason she hadn’t burst into tears again. She stroked the bloodstains on her hand with her thumb.

“You have blood on your hands,” Illya notice. “Do you want to go wash that off?”

Gaby shook her head and felt the lump in her throat again. “I can’t. If he dies this is all I have from him,” she muttered embarrassed and knew how stupid that sounded.

Illya took his other hand from her waist and covered her hands. She didn’t need to see the blood even if she needed to keep it. Gaby set her head on Illya’s shoulder. Her forehead pressed on Illya’s neck. She sniffed but didn’t start to cry. Illya squeezed her a little closer with the hand still wrapped around her.

“I’m scared,” Gaby admitted quietly.

“Sometimes, I think, it is okay to be scared,” Illya muttered to her. He wasn’t really scared. But he was concerned and nervous and the situation bothered him. He didn’t want Cowboy to die. Working with a team brought worries like this and responsibilities to look after others, but it brought comfort too. Gaby was comforting. Leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder was comforting. She didn’t probably realize that she was comforting him as he was comforting her, but she was. Was nice to be with somebody.

Both of them lifted their heads when a nurse walked up to them. Gaby straightened herself on Illya’s lap. She turned her hand under Illya’s so that their palms touched and squeezed it tightly.

“Your friend is stable and awake. He needs to stay here at least few days, but he is going to be fine,” the nurse told and nodded. “He is tired, but you can go to see him shortly, if you like. I will send somebody to tell you when you can.”

Gaby sighed and her stiff back gave in a bit and she relaxed. Her hand stopped squeezing, but she didn’t let go of Illya’s hand.

“Thank you,” Illya said to the nurse who left. He leaned closer to Gaby. “I told you so; if not anything else, then to annoy me.”

Gaby smiled for the first time in many hours without a sad undertone.

“The nurse looked a little uncomfortable,” Illya noticed. “Cowboy has probably already tried to hit on every woman he has seen.”

“Yes, he probably has,” Gaby agreed. “Apparently Valhalla is going to have to wait for us.”

Illya nodded. Gaby was visibly relief and she leaned back against him and set her head on his shoulder. Her fingers grabbed on the edge of his open jacket. She sighed and Illya could feel her breathing against him. Illya leaned back on the chair and his head to the wall behind it. He turned his face so it would touch Gaby’s hair. He was tired and closed his eyes. Gaby’s breathing was relaxing and he was sure she had closed her eyes too. They had been up over thirty hours and when the anxiety had gone, tiredness took its place.

Gaby was relieved and suddenly exhausted. She had closed her eyes and wanted to rest against Illya little while longer. Lately there had been weird intense tension between them. Normally she kind of liked it, but right now it was nice to be free from it and rest against Illya without it making her all tingly and heated.

Illya was glad that Cowboy was safe. He didn’t want any of them to go anywhere yet. He didn’t want to go anywhere yet. Illya liked this life where Gaby was on his lap all warm and soft. He liked the tension there was usually, he liked the little game they were playing somewhere in the background; circling each other and testing the waters, but not yet moving further. And he liked how Gaby was comfortable enough with him to lower her guards and show her emotions, even when those were big like today. He liked that she didn’t apologize for her crying. Sometimes Illya wondered was Gaby testing him with her emotions. Testing what he would do if she just would break down and wouldn’t be strong; testing if he would be scared by that. But Gaby’s emotions didn’t frighten him. For some reason he even knew how to deal with those. Gaby made it very easy by not needing anybody saying anything to her or trying too much. It seemed to be enough that he was there and let her feel freely.

Illya liked this life. But if something was to happen, an eternity with Gaby in Valhalla didn’t sound that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to MollokoPlus


End file.
